


Covenants Forged in Ash

by velvetnoire



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Arson, Character Study, Chinese Culture, Grief, M/M, Mentions of Death, Minor Violence, More Plot-centric Than Ship-Centric, Peking Duck-Typical Warnings, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 12:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16241570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetnoire/pseuds/velvetnoire
Summary: Yes, it would be a covenant sealed in flame - to bring this country up from ashes, born anew.-True, it is a story of love - but it is also a story of longing. It is a tale of grief and acceptance, cruelty and kindness. Won't you give it a listen?





	Covenants Forged in Ash

_“When will the bright moon appear?”_

_I am raising a cup of wine and asking the dark blue sky._

 -

Master Attendant’s smile always curved in the way crescent moon did, its radiance a sight I always savored. The magistrate had always loved the moon, enraptured in its splendor with a quiet affection. It was not unlike how admired him from afar. I never allowed myself to come too close. Even so, it was a sensation that never waned, only growing richer like rice wine _._

- 

The peach blossoms cascade about me in a flurry of fluttering fragrance, descending like sweet rain. Another time, I might have admired the sight, breathing in the sojourn of delicate spring. But gone was the idyllic life filled with the gaiety of laughter and gossip of the local housewives I would have done anything to escape, then. On the other hand, I would always lend a smiling audience to the ever-eager children, tugging earnestly at my silken sleeves.

_The child had smiled sweetly at me, in a time where fate dealt a hand far gentler to our humble town. She had beamed as I’d offered her candy - the only payment she would accept in caring for my children while I was working. I’d insisted on a healthier method of payment. Instead, she’d promised to brush her teeth all the more thoroughly, insisting that she adored the children so - which was payment enough, really, Mister!_

_I had laughed, amusement giving way to her antics. Indeed, the child had a way with words: endearingly honest, and curious as a hound doggedly tailing a scent with her questions unceasing. But no questions came from her now - no smiles nor laughter as she lay, still upon the altar. A hollow feeling rose up in me as I knelt, tucking her to bed on a mattress of unforgiving stone. I bid her goodnight, one last time._

Now, all the petals do is serve as a reminder of the transience of human life - how scars old and new had traced their way across my Master Attendant’s back, veins mapping roads stark against his parchment-pale skin. My Master Attendant was resigned to his fate - determined for the future he saw in his mind’s eye. A future that I vowed to be brought to fruition.  
  
Since my Master’s (unjust, oh, how unjust) incarceration, Master had not seen the sun for quite some time - languishing in the mildewed corridors, bound in bars of unforgiving iron. The only one who had given him company was I, his only food soul, left with  grief for a man who was good as gone. I had been the sole witness to the final words the man I held in such high esteem, headed straight for the gallows.  

He’d staggered towards me, despite the amount of pain he was in - gritting his teeth all the while.

“Live,” he’d told me, voice unyielding. 

Even as it rasped from both disuse and dehydration, it held the same commanding tone. It was an order from my Master Attendant I couldn't bring myself to disobey.

“And perhaps we will meet again in our next life.”

It would be something I could only long for. In dreams, perhaps I could hear the lilt of his voice and the scent of his favored wine. If this was the emotion humans called love, I would say my sentiments toward him came very close. But of course - such a thing could never be reciprocated. Not for man already spoken for.

So I contented myself with savoring every moment we shared, delighting in the delicacy all the while. The feelings did not fade. So quickly I found myself learning such conflicting emotions, bringing me into quite the predicament.

Ah, love. How can humans bear such a thing, for something so tantalizing so near? How can humans bear the weight of a broken heart? Ah, what a painful feeling…

My Master Attendant had stood tall all the while, noble as the orchids I had likened him to. As he wilted in death in tattered rags, pitiful in comparison to his former finery, he smiled grimly all the while. Even in death, he exuded that aura of honesty. After all, he hadn’t needed opulence to shroud his true intentions. 

Ah, Master would have liked this - the spring wind, crisp and clear as the last bite of pear I’d threaten to steal from him, if only to avoid future stains (and perhaps to savor the taste of vindictive victory, vengeance for the errands he had made me run in his stead.) The documents he had been working on had been important, back then.

Back then, things had been simple and sweet; life had flowered like the blossoms of spring, flourishing in spite of the sweltering heat.

The gentle rain of petals dusts my hair like sweet snow. It lightens my mood, if only temporarily. It could not, however, distract me from how lost I feel now; after all, I had always followed the sight of my Master Attendant’s back like a guiding star. It had always seemed almost daunting, bearing the weight of sin and being burdened by the cross not his to bear - bending but never breaking under the tremendous strain.

I cannot help but seethe at the injustice of it all, anger sizzling red-hot beneath my skin. So I crawl my way up the chain of command, uncaring of how many corpses I would have to cross. It was a necessity, I tried to convince myself over and over until I almost believed the lies I was telling myself. Surrounded by such sin, I have to wonder just how far I would have to go to fulfill my Master’s dying wish.  
  
Yet I would not bend. I could not break - not until I had fulfilled the wishes of my Master. I had made a vow that rang like a mantra to drive my faltering footsteps forward, something to stave off the aching grief. It was a sensation that had made its home in my bones and refused to leave.

 _Unforgivable,_ I thought, heart pounding loud in my ears and blood rushing hot through my veins, _not one can be spared._

Glittering gold was worthless in the face of the lives that could have been saved. Lavish opulence seemed only a slap to the face in comparison to the conditions the village had fallen to, shimmering silks a far cry from the rags so many of my people were reduced to wearing.  
  
_Undeserving,_ I snarled, spitting out the words with simmering vitriol, _of existence_.

For what mercy had this country granted my Master, caught in their delusions of the grandeur of a god who would grant them salvation? For the government who turned a blind eye to the cries of help our town had made, considering coin over lives that could have been saved so easily…What mercy was there?

Watching the children wither so slowly away was a sight I could never forget.

So I would make sure that this wretched country would always remember - searing a sight into their minds, bright and burning as a brand.

 -

I requested the aid of a historian who had fortuitously crept into my study one day, and she had accepted. Within her black book, the bloodstained history went down in solemn ink. I had asked the Food Soul to make a record of the event, witnessing it with her own eyes. In this way, none could never forget how this country was brought to ashes.

There were no songs, here - only a cacophony of voices lifted in disharmony, crying out for aid. Like the aid that had never been granted to us, I mused bitterly.

Master had always enjoyed a nights like these - within a moon shining bright and full as a covenant come full circle, without a cloud in sight to mar its clarity. Such a scene brought a memory to the forefront of my mind.

 

- 

 _Why is it that at the time of partings, is the moon often is so bright and full_?

- 

 

“The moon is beautiful tonight, is it not?” Master had mused to his wife, idly admiring at the sight as I stood beside him, exhaling with the pipe he’d gifted me in my hands. I distinctly felt as if I was third-wheeling on a date of two lovers, and swiftly decided on a tactical retreat. I ignored the pain lingering in my heart, for the role I could never take. What else could I do?

“Not as beautiful as you,” she giggled, covering her laughter delicately with a hand. A thoughtful expression would cross her face before she’d correct, “or should I say...handsome?”

I remembered the expression on my Master Attendant’s face when I had mentioned he’d hide from the neighbor’s daughter had been priceless - especially when it was to his wife. When had slyly added that it was in hopes of dissuading her advances, he’d tossed a book at my head only for me to easily dodge, leaving the room in hearty chuckles.

It was enough to tide me through their utterances of sweet nothings and saccharine glances at each other. For the ache of jealousy that soured my expression as I turned away, bitterness heavy in my throat. Ah, vengeance for having to third wheel yet again had never tasted so sweet.

“Remember how I got fed up with waiting? I decided if you wouldn’t say the word, I’d propose to you myself.” His wife truly was an unconventional character - as a passionate and unafraid woman in speaking her mind, she was quite the spitfire. Given the era, it was something that was either frowned upon or admired. I couldn’t help but be happy for my Master, having found such a suitable match. Yes, I had to be happy for him.

“Ah, such fire. Darling, I’ve always admired that about you.” In comparison, my Master Attendant tended to bide his time - patient as an adder, readying to strike. It was something I always admired about him - he had always excelled in our games of _xiangqi,_ and we’d often come to a draw. I never minded seeing him win, instead marveling at the extent of his tactical prowess. It was consistent in every round. 

 _So this is love,_ I’d muse from a safe distance away, yet (unfortunately) not beyond earshot. There was a pain within my chest that refused to abate. Ah, the sacrifices I make...having to endure their flirting to ensure their safety. Of having to pine after someone too dense to realize my sentiments toward him, so close yet so far away.

The concept of affection had once felt foreign to me - something I couldn’t quite comprehend no matter how long I watched, detachedly fascinated by the sight. Yet so quickly, I found myself smiling before I knew it - had I already become attached?

He’d take her hand in his, and they would have eyes only for each other - bright as the promise of stars that would dim but never fade. It was the sort of love that overflowed into a kindness for all in the vicinity. I was unsure of how to deal with it, in the beginning. How does one deal with a splendid smile sent one’s way, sending one’s heart aflutter?

(It could have been - oh, how I wished it was - me. I had promised to stay by his side, no matter what. In sickness and health, until death did us part. It had become more than the contract that bound us.)

Before I was given form, there had been a sense of warmth - a nothingness without sound nor speech. Master Attendant’s voice was the first note of music I had ever heard, resonant as the _guqin_ he’d sometimes play. Its notes lulled me to peaceful slumber in the warm summer evenings, serene as the sight of a lotus blossom drifting on the water.

Now, having come into the world… I had witnessed many things. I had seen the repugnant actions of humans despicable and vile, and the heartwarming acts of humans charitable and selfless beyond belief.

In humble grandeur, some humans bloom like noble flowers. Other boastful blossoms wither away, their sweet scent veiling their bitter thorns.

Humans never cease to amaze me - in cruelty and in kindness, with tempers fickle and lives fleeting.

 

- 

_The moon is turning its beams toward  the red chamber,_

_descending its light through latticed window,_ _  
_ _and shining upon the sleepless._

_-_

 

Tonight, I lay the sleepless to rest. The time is now, and I cannot wait any longer.

Smoke spills across the sky, leaving an acrid haze of a stench that would linger for quite some time - suffocatingly thick. A match flares in the dark, the barest hint of a undimming spark. This earth is only kindling for the ever-effulgent pyre, growing into an all-consuming conflagration of smoke and ash. The flames climb ever higher, the explosions ringing out like fireworks in the night - with hardly any soul to see.

I stand solemnly and bear witness as the capital collapses on itself, wanting to savor the sight of vengeance.

But I could feel nothing but the ache of fatigue - the sense of relief that it was finally over, that at last, Master could be at peace. I had used up almost all the energy I had. Before, commanding my power felt like spreading wings. Now, it was only a shadow of its former magnitude, as if my wings had been clipped when I had once been able to soar.

The power bestowed to a food soul relies not only on the bond with their Master Attendant, but also their Master Attendant’s determination and will. My Master’s will could have moved mountains. It was immense even in the face of resistance, unflinching before the gallows even as he staggered, a boot in his back and shackles binding his ankles and wrists. Even then, through our bond - I did not feel it falter.

With the aid of my Master Attendant, I felt as if I could wreak havoc across the battlefield, reducing Fallen Angels to ashes in my wake. An Aizen, stirred from its drunken stupor, could only gaze at the sight of what had been its comrades before succumbing to the same fate.

I could almost feel sympathy - but anything that obstructed my Master Attendant’s path…I was brought into this world to eradicate.

With his strength and mine, we could bring Fallens to their figurative knees in one fell swoop; none could stop us. I’d let the briars burst into a blaze ever-burgeoning so that the peonies would never bloom again, reducing the most lauded tea house to nothing but a memory carried on the wind. Yes, it would be a covenant sealed in flame - to bring this country up from ashes, born anew.

I could dye the world in sweeping sanguine, if he so desired, with all the ruthlessness of steel against the jugular. But no - he was better than that, better than me in that regard. He told me no, that I should never resort to such a needless display of savagery and I obeyed. Only to those who deserved it, then, I thought to myself. I would carry out his wishes, no matter what.

At last, my dear Master Attendant could rest in peace.

Ah, but - I could not let the historian fade away, here. Yuxiang, was it? She was one of the few who understood, bearing the wishes of her contract even after it was long gone.

No - there was still a promise for her to fulfill. Such promise...it would be a pity for it to go to waste.

From then on, a promise had been fulfilled - but in its stead, another had been made just as swiftly.

 

-

 

At my Master Attendant’s grave I left sweet yam buns, an offering to venerate his soul in heaven - because where else would his soul be?

I remember the day he’d brought them to his study, offering me the treat from the local bakery in a basket. He’d told me that they were still warm. It did pique my interest, to think that temperature was a defining factor in taste...and such an interesting color, too. Not many dishes I knew were purple, aside from desserts flavored with taro.

It was the first dish I had ever sampled, if one could call them a dish. They were more like a sweet snack than anything, to me - their sweet filling smooth and rich, but not overpowering; their fragrance had been half the appeal. In the beginning, though, I had not been convinced in the slightest.

 _Food souls do not require sustenance_ , I had reminded him, slowly as if he was a child, _and_   _shouldn't you be working, mister magistrate_?

He’d laughed and said that requiring food was not the same as enjoying it, extending the dessert to me even as I remained skeptical. _Take one!_ he pressed on in his attempts. The phrasing made it sound as if it was an order, but it seemed more like a request. Humans never ceased to be so odd...yet endearing, in that same manner.

Upon seeing my expression from the first bite, we became the most frequent customers of the local bakery. They tasted all the sweeter in good company.

Recalling such a bittersweet thing only brought me a sense of nostalgia. If only we could go back to that time when we had been happy...

I gripped the tobacco pipe I had been gifted all the tighter, itching fiercely for a smoke. I held back the urge, letting out a sigh,  watching the tobacco bag idly swing back and forth at my side. There was nothing that could be done, now. There was no going back, no matter how much I pleaded to whatever gods there were for mercy.

Instead of reminiscing, there was something I had to do.

I found myself exhale slowly as I laid white chrysanthemum upon the stone, blossoms pure as unsullied snow. 

The sound of shredding paper rang out in the stillness. I held the blackened book of history’s pages to a candle’s flame and watched unblinkingly as they crumbled to ash.

I stood at a nameless tomb - Master's final resting place. One would have little reason to desecrate it, now that his name had been cleared.

I could not help but wonder if my Master Attendant was reading it now with that foolish smile of his. In the afterlife, would he stumble over himself, clumsy as the clown he had always seemed to be? I’d imagine he would smile fondly at his son, still hiding from the local women. He'd laugh as he took the hand of his wife and twirl her about the kitchen, making the two fools in love all the merrier.

But would he think of me, sharing sweet yam buns with his family instead?

Perhaps I was half-delirious, overcome with a haze of grief - but it was almost as if Master spoke to me, then. I’d like to believe that he did.

For now, I did not even want to consider the amount of blood that stained my hands, nor how many lives that had gone up in smoke. For now, listening to the words of a man long gone...was more than enough for a sense of peace for me, however fleeting.

It would be easier to forget - but doing so would mean disrespect the wishes of so many. I would have to shoulder the burden of a nation long gone up in flames, then, carrying the hopes of so many on my back.

 _Thank you,_ Master Attendant seemed to say in a voice laced with warm gratitude, brimming with emotion I dare not express, for fear of losing it as well - was he on the verge of tears..? _Thank you…_

 _You are quite welcome._ I thought to myself with a small smile as I lit my pipe for a smoke. It filled me with a warmth I hadn’t felt for quite a while, or perhaps a sense of a new beginning. I voiced as such, even if it was to the echo of a man who I’d admired for so long. _Master Attendant, it seems like this is goodbye._

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust - humans and food souls alike all return from whence they had come. Yet even now, I could not rest. Would it always come back to another promise?

Ah, the rain has begun to fall - a slow trickle slowly becoming a veritable downpour. Yet what streams down my face is not just the rain. I lift my face towards the sky and laugh without mirth, shoulders shaking as I gasp for breath.

I laugh and laugh, filled with only a sense of grief. Perhaps I am not the only one left to mourn, as the rain cascades down in bitter lamentation in spite of my promise fulfilled.  
  
But at what cost?

Sin had stained my soul in darkness tenebrous and unfathomable; now that I had been submerged in its depths I could not go back. The acts that I had committed within that organization, to rise to the very top...had truly changed me.

In dreams, I am confronted with the consequences of my actions - haunted by the lives claimed by my selfish vow. No how I tried to convince myself, so many had died that night. Even if I told myself it was just, that I was ridding the world of evil…

They had begged and cried, both innocent and guilty in a chorus that rose to fever pitch, dissonant chords making me cover my ears - if only for a moment. Drowning out the sound of the sinners and the saints alike, I only wanted respite from it all. I dared not listen for the sake of my own sanity, but they never let me escape. Not now, and perhaps not ever.

In dreams, I can never forget my blackened history - charred and stained by soot and sin.

 _Good night,_ I whisper instead as I tuck thousands to bed, blanketed in the embrace of flames. _Good night._

 

- 

Smile beneath the strain.

Bend but never break.

Be congenial, but never get close.

-

 

I abide by these habits like clockwork, a ritual that wears on me again and again and again. It is an unending cycle of longing in my chest. Over and over, memories only serve to haunt me with the possibilities that could have been, of a place I could never return to.

The children - my ducklings - provide me with my only source of solace, puffballs of sunlight in the cavernous stretch of darkness Master’s absence has left me. I watch over them with a vigilant eye, pulling them close to my chest. They’re mine. Mine, and no one else’s. They’re one of the few things in my life I can control, and the one of the few things I can still protect.

 

-

Hands clasped in prayer.

 A voice, crying out until hoarse. 

Screaming, begging, pleading.

There is no answer.

Never forgive. Never forget.

 -

 

My pipe is one of the few remaining things I have of my Master Attendant. Every time I use it, I remember. Cleansing the world of filth, I must eradicate evil from the face of the earth with a smile that never wavers, no matter much of it stains humanity.

It’s best to cut corruption at its root, after all, before it travels upwards into the pristine petals of flowers yet to flourish. Rotten apples will only grow to spoil the rest, and it is my duty to prevent such a thing from happening. Nobody should ever have to suffer like Master - not if it is within my power to prevent it.

Never again.

 

-

_It would have been so easy._

_To become a Fallen, succumbing to incandescent rage, bright and burning. It’s easier, not to grieve. To become a monster, destroying everything in sight._

_To raze cities to naught but ash and bone, mere memories of corruption all for the sake of coin… to not have to consider the repercussions of fury._

_Nothing would be left._

_But then I think of the days we'd share together and Master Attendant’s dying wish. The scent of chrysanthemum tea through the mid-autumn air, the festivities already in full swing. I think of the spring festival,_ hong bao _\- red money packets filled with a handful coin for the village children, and the smiles that lit their faces when they received them. I recall leaving my shoes by the door of Master Attendant’s office, calling that I was home._

_It brings back the memory of the end of the Spring Festival, or the New Year’s celebration - one of the last ones we had celebrated happily together, before that devastating winter. The scent of gunpowder and smoke from the fireworks going off outside, to scare off that fabled monster of old had brought a smile to my face. If anything, I mused, it must have been a Fallen._

_“How beautiful,” I commented, sneaking a glance at my Master, referring to more than just the sight. He only agreed with me, likely oblivious to my other meaning.  Sometimes I wondered how such an intelligent man, charged with the many duties of a magistrate, could be so dense._

_Yes, watching Master Attendant’s face lit up by so many lights made my heart swell, threatening to burst. Averting my eyes, I had commented idly, “The year of tiger, is it? Lucky for you, then. Prosperity must be knocking at your door.”_

_The magistrate, ever the clown, grinned slyly. “Is that so? Sounds like I’d better head home and check for this prosperity you speak of.”_

_So many lanterns lit the sky tonight in a sea of warmth and light. Illuminated in red, the color of fortune, the festivities had only begun. Some of the lanterns had riddles Master and I tried our hands at, sometimes succeeding and receiving a small gift from the lanterns’ owners. Often, the magistrate would offer the bowl of still-warm rice dumplings swimming in sweet soup - tangyuan - (aforementioned gift) to a passing child up to mischief, romping through the streets with a self-made lantern (evident due to its...less than professional craftsmanship.)_

_It was a smart decision, as children on full stomachs and pacified by sweets were at least temporarily distracted from doing so. As a magistrate, it would be less trouble for him - and certainly a delight to see the child’s face light up. Watching both expressions come to life, I could not help but join in._

_Looking up, it was like the night held the radiance of daytime - lanterns soaring into the sky before disappearing, the hopes of so many people sent up to the very heavens. Their light seemed to drown out the very stars, warding off the darkness in their warm glow._

_“Are you going to write your wish on a lantern and release it, hoping the heavens will grant it?”_

_“Perhaps I’ll have more hope in my ancestors...What chance is there that the heavens will grant the wish of this humble magistrate?”_

_“Perhaps more than you think.”_

_“My, my. You speak too highly of me.”_

_“I say nothing you don’t deserve.”_

_Master Attendant had been flattered, of course, smiling all the while as he wet the insktone and began to write out his wish. I watched, mesmerized at the skill at the craft; calligraphy was an art form at which officials were expected to excel, after all. Halfway through, he pulled the lantern he had been writing his wish on away from my prying eyes, huffing slightly._

_“My wish is only for the heavens to see. A secret I’d like to keep on my own.”_

_“The heavens, you say? What was all your talk of earlier, then, of being a humble magistrate? What happened to your ancestors, hm?”_  

_“...You speak too much,” the magistrate sighed, yet he seemed to be holding back laughter, “now, out of my study! I won’t hear any more of this impetuousness from you.”_

_“Impetuousness, hm? This is why you have to keep me around. Reading those dusty old scripts all day, the size of your words and ego only grows.”_

_“Out with you, I said!” He chased me through the door. With a calligraphy brush brandished in hand and ink shining on its bristles, he threatened to stain my well-tailored changshan. I had gotten quite a good deal on the winter attire, as its folds were lined with elegant fur - so I beat a hasty retreat, for now._ _After all, I had gotten what I had come for._

_He looked very foolish indeed. My laughter echoed through the streets, braid trailing behind me as I couldn’t help but imagine the expression on his face._

_In the years that followed, we used a system of lanterns to notify each other we were safe and sound. With his signature symbol, only a slight deviation from the typical design, he could slip from prying eyes’ notice yet still be distinguished from the others by me._  

_The sight never failed to bring me relief after weeks without any word nor news of his current state, the assurance bringing me to my knees. At last, I could rest assured that the one I’d pledged my life to was safe and sound, alive and whole._

_Now, the sight only brings me a sense of sorrow. Never again will we send each other lantern signals nor laugh as we puzzle over riddles, pacing in front of the vendor’s stall._

_I’d like to imagine my Master Attendant’s wish, whatever it had been, was granted by the heavens, if only in return for the injustice they brought upon him. I’d like to imagine his soul, bright and warm as a lantern, soared up to heaven and rested among the stars. In the afterlife, I’m sure he would have been some sort of divine judge, granting heaven’s denizens the justice he never received but deserved._

_Ah, I’m so tired. So, so tired. Nowadays, I’ve spent more time in memories of the past than the present. Master Attendant, won't you play for me again? Hm, that prelude to the water melody...you know very well that is our favorite. Need you even ask?_

_Ah, what a beautiful poem. Your accompaniment suits it very well. My favorite line? Oho, I do believe it goes like this..._

_"Although a thousand miles apart, we can still share the beautiful moon together.”_

_A lovely line indeed, is it not?_

 

**Author's Note:**

> I put a lot into this, and I hope you found it at least a slightly emotional experience upon reading...! And enjoyed as well. Please leave a comment about anything that really resonated with you, or you liked, or something about the fic if you want! 
> 
> This is also kind of a what-if, if Peking Duck had unrequited feelings for his past Master Attendant. He had such devotion, to go to such lengths just for one man.... I considered this.
> 
> The lyrics in italics in between are from Su Shi's (苏轼) poem, Prelude to the Melody of Water (但願人長久). It has been made into songs - a notable example is Teresa Teng, a well known and respected singer. 
> 
> http://www.chinesetolearn.com/try/


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